


You Cast a Spell on Me

by CreativeSweets



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Anal Fingering, Aphrodisiacs, Come Eating, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Massage, Shota, Spells & Enchantments, Vicchan (Yuri!!! on Ice) Dies, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 10:45:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16448402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeSweets/pseuds/CreativeSweets
Summary: Maybe everyone else is okay with the witch taking parts from their dead, but not him! Not Vicchan!"I'll do anything," Yuuri tries, desperate,"Please."





	You Cast a Spell on Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Spookyweek Day 2: Witches/Warlocks
> 
> ### Please read the tags
> 
> Note: I am intentionally vague with Yuuri's age, all that is important here is that he is a virgin
> 
> I love this pairing, they are amazing together and nothing anyone says will convince me otherwise ♡

Yuuri traced over the name he lovingly carved for the umpteenth time. The rest of his family had already gone home, leaving him to his mourning. His Vicchan…his sweet, fluffy, adorable Vicchan. He sniffles.

"Oh."

Yuuri whips his head around to come face to face with the witch who lives on the far edge of the cemetery, by the woods. His heart leaps into his throat.

"I'm…sorry," the witch states awkwardly, shuffling from foot to foot, "I wasn't aware anyone was still out here."

The soft-spoken words snap him out of his daze and he stands up and—foolishly disregarding his parents' warning—begs the witch. "Please don't take anything from Vicchan!"

The witch raises an eyebrow and Yuuri _has_ to convince him, he just _has_ to. There's no way he's going to let this witch take anything from his Vicchan. Because he knows what the witch does; he also knows it's in the name of protecting his village. Maybe everyone else is okay with the witch taking parts from their dead, but not him! Not Vicchan!

"I'll do anything," Yuuri tries, desperate, _"Please."_

"I _suppose_ a deal could be made." The witch eyes him critically, and Yuuri suppresses a shiver. "I'll tell you what, if you come spend the next twenty-four hours at my cottage, and allow me to do whatever I need to do, I'll let your Vicchan rest whole."

"W–Whatever…?"

"Ahaha, don't worry, you're not going to wind up dead, if that's what you're worried about."

That… _isn't_ what he was worried about, but now he can't hold back the tendril of fear that coils around him. But…for Vicchan…

"Okay," he says as he finally looks up to meet the witch's eyes, "I'll do it."

•••

After going home and begrudgingly telling his family about the deal—his mother was _not_ happy—he's finally standing in front of the large cottage. His grip tightens on his pack as he reaches out and knocks ever so lightly on the door. Maybe…maybe if the witch doesn't hear him, then he can go back home and—

The door swings open and Yuuri yelps.

"Come in"—the witch ushers him in and the door closes with finality—"Yuuri, is it?"

"Ah, yes," Yuuri answers absentmindedly as he takes in the interior with a growing curiosity.

It's clean, something he didn't expect from all the stories he's been told—no shrunken heads or dead animals anywhere. There's actually a faint, pleasant smell of flowers. Hesitantly walking further in, he notices that there's nothing placed out for him on the couch, or in a corner anywhere.

"Mister Witch?"

"Please, call me Georgi."

Yuuri jolts and turns around to see the witch—Georgi— _right there._ Goosebumps travel up his arms as Georgi lays his hand on his shoulder to guide him to one of the side rooms. It winds up being the bedroom, more normal looking than Yuuri expected, asides from the assortment of weirdly-shaped glass containers on the nightstand.

"Georgi?"

"Set your pack down and hop on up there."

Yuuri bites his lip as he hastily sets his backpack down and—after a moment of deliberation—takes his shoes off. Turning back around, he supposes the bed _is_ big enough for the both of them. No amount of logic though prevents his hair from standing on edge and his stomach from turning as he walks closer.

"Oh yes, before I forget, go ahead and take your clothes off."

"What are you going to do to me?" He silently curses the small tremor of fear that comes out at his question.

Georgi turns to face him, a round jar in his hands. "I'm going to give you a massage."

"A…massage?" Yuuri is thoroughly confused.

"Yes! And it'll be hard to massage this cream"—Georgi gives the jar he picked up from the nightstand a shake—"into your skin with clothes in the way."

"Oh." Yuuri's quick to take his pants off, but then hesitates. Does—Does Georgi mean _all_ of his clothes? Or is this enough? Or—

Hands fall on his shoulders and he screeches.

"Nervous?" Georgi says with a hearty chuckle.

Yuuri blushes as he nervously tugs on the bottom of his shirt.

"Come now, you've nothing I've not seen before."

"That's true…" Yuuri mumbles as he avoids eye contact as he slips his underwear off, pulling at his shirt in an attempt to keep most of him covered. He fiddles with the long sleeves.

"Do you want to leave your shirt on?" Georgi finally asks after a minute.

He nods furiously.

"Well, alright, if it makes you more comfortable."

Sighing in relief, he flops gracelessly onto his stomach on top of the bed. He lays his head on his arms and tries to quiet his nerves.

"Hn!" He jolts at the first touch of fingers on his bare thigh.

"Relax," Georgi quietly reminds him as his hands start smoothing out his twitching muscles.

"S–Sorry." Yuuri buries his head further in his arms. Was that really his voice? It sounded so _weird._

It gets easier to relax as time goes on; his initial shyness fading as Georgi's humming and the faint vanilla smell from the cream help calm his nerves. Georgi must keep his heat on _strong_ , because he's getting uncomfortably warm. He starts fidgeting despite himself. By the time Georgi's hands reach the fleshy globes of his butt, the heat is unbearable.

"Warm?" Georgi's voice sounded weird, like he just spent the last few hours yelling and his voice is nearly gone.

"I…don't know." It's far from the truth but he'd much rather suffer through the heat if it means the massage will continue.

"Here, let me help."

Before Yuuri knows it, his shirt is being tugged off him and he nearly groans at the relief. In fact, he _does_ groan when his bare chest touches the sheets. And then hands are kneading his back, leaving tingling trails in their wake. He squirms as he flushes, acutely aware of a certain growing problem that's trapped underneath him.

What's…what's going on?

"Huh, that worked better than I thought it would."

Worked…better…?

He doesn't get to think on this much longer as those warm hands leave his skin, leaving his skin prickling and hurting.

"Noooo," he whines as he shifts onto his side to peer up at Georgi through wet lashes.

Georgi ignores him, bringing a hand up to stroke burning path along his inner thigh as he spreads his legs. Closing his eyes, he whimpers as the heat coils further inside him, as desperation licks along his skin.

"G–Geor—ah!" His eyes fly open as his world is shattered, as he fists the sheets underneath him, as he shivers and shakes with Georgi's finger inside him.

"Shh shh shh"—Georgi pats his cheek before a vial is placed at the corner of his eye—"Just relax, just let it go, it's okay."

"Wh—I—" Yuuri's voice cracks as more tears spill over, the lone finger stirring his insides up teetering on painful. It quells the insatiable fog that's descended over him ever so slightly.

Georgi hums and then there's another finger dipping inside him, causing him to arch his back. He feels hot liquid hit his stomach, his chest, his neck. Did—Did that come out of him? Twitching at every little movement of the fingers inside him, he feels more relaxed than he's ever been before—like putty. His eyes slip shut.

"Good boy," he hears Georgi say as he caresses his cheek.

He leans into the touch with a sigh, the horrible heat and desperation withering down to a feeling of calm, of contentment. He's completely boneless as Georgi rolls him over to his side, as Georgi wraps his long arms around him. He feels something long and hot push between his legs and he instinctively clenches his legs together. Georgi groans.

"Yuuri," the word lands hot and heavy on his ear, "stay just like that."

Fingers trace nonsensical patterns on his hips and then further up to his chest as Georgi moves between his thighs. Every other thrust finds his own sensitive areas, and they swell in response.

"Ah!" He jerks as Georgi's fingers pinch and pull at one of his nipples, and whines when kisses are placed behind his ear. His hands move to where he can see Georgi popping through the squeeze of his thighs, and he marvels at how smooth and big it is, how when he grips it pulls shaky, breathless noises from Georgi. Georgi responds by gripping his thighs and pushing them together _hard_ as he spills into Yuuri's hands that are cupped around him.

Yuuri feels the deep breaths from Georgi as he brings his hands up to inspect the sticky fluid now covering them. Curiosity gets the better of him and he tentatively licks at a particularly large glob.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," he hears Georgi whisper.

It's bitter, sticks in his throat, and is altogether not very appealing, but Georgi's reactions have him pushing aside his slight distain. It's worth it, he thinks, when after he's finished cleaning the last of it off his fingers, for his first kiss—a searing, wet thing that leaves him dazed.

"I think you and I will get along _just_ fine."

Yuuri hums in answer, exhaustion creeping in and taking hold of him. He feels his bangs being swept away from his face and more words being spoken to him in a soft, musical language he's never heard before. A finger brushes along the top of his nose and above his eyebrows, following their curve back and forth. He manages to stay awake long enough for the third pass of that finger over his nose before sleep takes hold of him.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://corgispacesiren.tumblr.com/) | [twitter (R18+)](https://twitter.com/corgispacesiren) | [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/CreativeSweets)


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